


Everyone Keeps Coming Out To Steve And He's Bisexual But Doesn't Want To Make It About Him: A Memoir

by TakingOverMidnight3482



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dustin's got a baby gay crush on Steve, Everyone is bi/gay/ace, Found Family, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Scoops Troop, a few slurs, all the kids are in their Angst Phase, and no one can stop me, except eleven whos been there done that, gays travel in packs, low key posting this for Flavia's bday yeet birth, signs point to no, the listed relationships are platonic dw, will i ever stop writing p!atd inspired titles?, you can pry sexuality headcanons out of my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 06:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakingOverMidnight3482/pseuds/TakingOverMidnight3482
Summary: “What they said? They’re wrong. You’re perfect, okay? Every bit of you. Don’t think otherwise,” Steve says, and her hands are trembling. “You’re badass, you’re awesome, and you happen to be bisexual.”Why the FUCK were all of his friends also suddenly bisexual?“It’s not weird to you?” Max confirms, searching his face hopefully.Steve grins. “No way, you shit. Besides, I’m-”~~Or, all the kids (and then some) are coming out to Steve, and he can't get a word in edgewise. The myth is true: Gays travel in packs.





	Everyone Keeps Coming Out To Steve And He's Bisexual But Doesn't Want To Make It About Him: A Memoir

**Author's Note:**

> Well this fic is low-key being posted bc it is friendo Flavia's bday today and she's kinda the reason I started watching this show and getting SUCKED IN, you bitch. 
> 
> Are all my fics gay now? Yes. Can anyone stop me? No. Suffer. The way I do. Or don't, because soft fics are yes.

He’s washing out his ice cream scooper in the back when the little bell at the front counter dings, signaling a customer. Steve groans, rolling his neck. Robin has gone home sick and his closer, Cassidy, isn’t in for another hour. He’d just gotten done with a rush and was frankly hoping it’d be quiet for the rest of the shift.

Another ding, and Steve flicks the water off his scoop before slinging it back into it’s holster. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” he muttered, pushing through the door and forcing a fake cheery smile onto his face.

It drops when he spots Will Byers standing at his counter, eyes red and fingers shaking. Steve glances around the shop, finding no one in it, and immediately rushes around the counter to the poor kid. “Will? Are you okay? Is your mom okay? Jonathon?”

Will nods quickly, dragging the palm of his hands under his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry,” he chokes, and _Christ, _he sounds miserable. “I just um…I didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve’s heart drops and he bites his lip, glancing out at the mall. It’s quiet, a Tuesday afternoon, and he only hesitates a second before locking the door and flipping the Open sign over, shutting the front lights off. He ushers Will into the back room and then backs out again, grabbing a couple scoops of chocolate and a spoon for him.

He plunks it down unceremoniously, handing over the spoon, and it’s a testament to how upset Will is that he does little more than poke at it. Steve sits down across from him, hands folded. “Are you okay?” he asks again, a little softer.

Will swallows, and his fingers are trembling around his spoon. “You um…you like Dustin, right?”

Steve furrows his eyebrows, because that wasn’t where he was expecting Will to start. “What? Yeah, of course, he’s my bud. You almost get killed with people, you tend to be friends. Heh. But you guys are all awesome. Is this about Dustin?”

Will’s mouth twists. “No. I just…you…but you’re like, okay with all of us? You don’t hate any of us?”

“Dude, of course not,” Steve manages, aghast. “Come on, I wouldn’t let you little shits sneak into movies all the fucking time or beat up monsters with baseball bats for you if I didn’t.”

The kid offers a tiny smile, a dig into his ice cream. He holds the scoop there, staring at the melting chocolate. “Would you hate me if I told you a secret?” he asks, and his voice is breaking again. “One I haven’t told anyone?”

Steve frowns. “Will. Come on, we’ve all literally killed people. Nothing you could tell me could possibly make me-”

“I like boys.”

Record scratch.

Once again, NOT what Steve thought was going to come out of his mouth. Steve sits back in his seat, lips falling open a little in surprise. He struggles to find the words, to say that it’s okay, but he’s never dealt with this situation before. It twists something in him, something he’s repressed since early highschool, and he realizes with a jolt that he still hasn’t responded and Will is looking more and more petrified.

Before the kid can bolt, Steve lunges forward, maybe a little too fast, and catches his hands, knocking the spoon out of Will’s grip. “Hey. Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I was processing, I’m sorry. Why…”

He frowns, searches for the words. Licks his lips. “Why me?” he asks finally, confused. “Why not Jonathon, or your mom?”

Will’s lip wobbles and he tries for a sheepish smile. “Is it um…is it bad if I say it’s because I…you aren’t…I didn’t know you well, before this, and Mike used to call you a douchebag, so I – I mean, _I _don’t think that, and he doesn’t either anymore, but-”

“You had the least to lose if I reacted badly,” Steve sums up, nodding. It stings a little, he’ll admit it, but he can’t blame the kid.

Will winces. “Yeah. I’m sorry, that sounds so mean now, and I wasn’t even planning on it today but I was at the mall and some of the kids from school were…”

He glances out towards the door and some protective instinct in Steve rises up. “They were what?” he demands, voice low and menacing.

The look Will shoots him is surprised. “Um…they were just…calling me names. You know. And t-this was the first place I thought I could come.”

“Need me to kill them? I can just add one more name to the list.”

Will smiles, a real one this time, and laughs a little. “Thanks, Steve.”

Steve squeezes his hands and then stands, walking around the table and kneeling in front of him. “For the record,” he says, soft. “I’m proud of you. For telling me. _Especially _because you don’t know me as well. And I won’t tell anyone. Not until you’re okay with it, or never. Okay?”

Will’s answer is a shockingly strong hug around the neck, thin body trembling under Steve’s grip and fingers twisting in the collar of his stupid work uniform. “The hat helped though, right?”

Will snorts, loud and watery. “It certainly made you look less menacing.”

“I’m menacing?”

“Not in that hat.”

“Aw, fuck you, Byers.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

He clings a little tighter and shuts his eyes, trying to bury the twisting in his gut.

~~

Once Hopper’s death settles in and Steve is deemed acceptably stitched up by the hospital, the events of the last few days overwhelms him and he finds himself sitting in the hospital’s chapel alone, sobbing against the wall.

Of all the things he’s experienced over the last 48 hours, only two things keep playing back in his head:

The four of them, all holding hands behind the counter while they waited for the Russians to find them and kill them, and the subsequent car flying through the air and killing them in one solid go.

and

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

Robin telling him she was gay while still kind of high on Russian drugs was not the thing he was expecting to remember about that night. Maybe he was also still being affected by the drugs, or maybe Will’s confession to him earlier that summer had been following him for weeks, but Steve Harrington was starting to question himself, and not for the first time.

Everything about himself, actually, and it’s the most terrified he’s felt since the night he and the kids almost got eaten by demidogs.

He doesn’t know what to think.

Actually, he does. And it scares him.

He knows the words. Had done research after Will had told him, because he didn’t want to be a jackass, and he wanted the kid to have someone to turn to about questions. He hasn’t, not yet, but Steve is determined to be a support system for these kids in any way he can. That includes knowing shit about the queer community.

For as long as Steve has been aware of liking people romantically as a general concept, he’d been told that boys couldn’t like boys, girls couldn’t like girls. It was wrong, his dad said, it was inhuman, it was a disease.

His mother had quietly disagreed with him, had told Steve in the confidence of post-nightmare snuggles that if he decided he liked boys, she’d be okay with that. He’d never believed her, because if she couldn’t tell his father that he was wrong, how could she stand up to him if Steve DID like boys?

And he did.

Does.

Steve drags his hands through his hair, flinching as his nails catch on a cut that the doctors must have missed and come back dotted with blood.

He does like boys.

Jonathon fucking Byers.

But he also likes girls.

Nancy motherfucking Wheeler.

He knows the word – bisexual. Read it in the articles he’d found about Stonewall and pride and in books about doctors detailing how obviously terrible it was to be “a queer.” He knows that it’s who he is, or at least who he likes, and it shakes him to his very core. He’s buried it for so long, been in the limelight of highschool popularity for so long, that it feels more like a passing thought than a fundamental truth.

But it is. The truth.

The chapel’s door open and Steve shuts his eyes. He doesn’t want it to be an adult. He doesn’t want it to be anyone. He wants to be alone with his stupid emotions, with the knowledge that if his father ever knows, he’s going to be burned at the stake, maybe literally.

“Steve?”

Dustin’s voice is soft, a little scared, and Steve forces himself to breathe, forces himself to look up at the kid, who looks shaken. “S’up, Henderson?”

His voice breaks, embarrassingly, and Steve can’t actually remember right now if he’s ever broken in front of the kids. Really broken. His heart is sitting in his throat, and his tongue tastes like blood, and suddenly he can’t breathe.

Dustin is sinking into his side, chubby hands and arms coming to wrap around Steve’s waist, and god fucking shit he definitely has a few bruised ribs the doctor didn’t tell him about. But he doesn’t scold Dustin for it, instead clings to the kid like the lifeline he has become and presses his nose into his head.

“You okay?” he manages to choke out.

Dustin doesn’t call him out on the irony, and he appreciates it. “No. Me and Robin were looking for you. I’m telling you dude, she totally-”

“No.”

And maybe there’s more pressure in his voice than usual, because Dustin drops his teasing immediately and tightens his hold on Steve. Despite his protesting ribs, he lets him. “Don’t ever tell anyone I said this,” Steve shudders out, and finally the tears are slipping through his swollen eye and fuck if they don’t sting like a bee out of hell. “But I love you, Henderson.”

Dustin’s nails dig into his arms, and there’s no hesitation before he speaks again. “Love you too, Steve.”

~~

Steve is leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed and watching as the kids give each other their final goodbyes before the Byers and El leave town. He’s already said his goodbyes, handed over his gifts – a new cassette player for Will and a stack of his old Nancy Drew books that he’d never let see the light of day for El. He’d been tackled by both kids, kissed and hugged by Mrs. Byers, and shaken hands with Jonathon.

“Hey.”

Steve glances sideways at Jonathon as he approaches, hands in his pockets. Offers a nod of his head. Jonathon leans against the car next to him, and Steve can’t help but think about how surreal it all is, how far they’ve come in the last three years. “You ready?”

Jonathon snorts. “No way.”

Steve, as much as he hated Hawkins sometimes, couldn’t imagine leaving. His kids were here, his whole world. “You’ll have to call, when you get there.”

“I think Mike will hunt us down if we don’t,” Jonathon chuckles.

They fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence, watching El cling to Dustin. When Jonathon speaks again, his voice is lower. “I wanted to thank you.”

Steve’s brow furrows and he shoots Jonathon a look. “What?”

Jonathon shifts, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing them over his chest in a mirror image of Steve. “Thank you,” he says again, a little more emphatically. “Um…Will told me. And he told me that you talked to him.”

Oh.

_Oh. _

Something in Steve cracks in relief and he smiles, genuine and wide. “He told you?”

Jonathon nods. His eyes are sparkling as he looks at Steve, and fuck if that isn’t the most attractive thing he’s seen all day. “He did. And I just…thanks for being there for him, man. I was…surprised, I guess. When he told me you were the first person he told. You used to be…”

“A jackass?” Steve suggests, a little laugh in his voice.

Jonathon snorts and nudges him. “Exactly. It’s um…it’s kind of a relief. Knowing you were there for him. It sucks that I couldn’t be, especially since I…I get it.”

“You ge- oh.”

Jonathon is looking at the ground now, his cheeks pink. Steve shifts so that he’s closer, bumps him with his shoulder. “Dude, it’s chill. I actually…” He trails off, not sure how to continue. He wants to tell him. Let him know that he actually REALLY gets it.

“You knew, I know,” Jonathon says, shrugging. “Or suspected. Most people did. But it’s not…I mean, not quite like that. I like Nancy too. A lot. So I like both.”

Steve nods and looks back up at the kids. El is on Max now, and he’s not sure she’ll ever let go. “Bisexual,” he offers, grinning at Jonathon’s startled look. “I did some research after Will told me. I wanted to have answers if – if he had questions. Plus I-”

“Jonathon! We need to go, sweetie!”

“Coming!”

Jonathon stands and turns to Steve, and the flush in his cheeks is mostly gone. A shame, because it was pretty. “Thanks, Steve. For everything.”

He holds out a hand and Steve straightens up, taking it slowly before shaking his head and yanking Jonathon into a hug. “Any time,” he says, swallowing down his own confession. Not the time.

He lets Jonathon go, waves one more time to Will and El, who’s already burrowing her nose into the first book he’d given her, and then opens his back door for his kids to pile into. They watch the Byer’s drive away until the truck is nothing more than a dust cloud in the distance.

~~

Steve is on his hands and knees, ripping duct tape with his teeth, when Max speaks. “Hey Steve?” she asks, from where she’s holding her broken board together for him to tape.

He spits the nasty taste of duct tape from his mouth and wrinkles his nose at it before looking at Max, who is staring at the ground with a petulant look. He hesitates. “S’up, Mad Max?”

Her fingers tighten on her board as he haphazardly slaps the tape onto it. “Can I ask you something? Secret?”

His mind flashes to the worst places – her father beating on her in Billy’s place, specifically, and he swallows down the fear in his throat. Doesn’t jump to conclusions. “Of course.”

She shoots a look over Steve’s shoulder, where he knows the other party members are trying to practice the skateboarding tricks Max had been teaching them. He shifts so they can’t see her, and she smiles faintly. “I was um…I was talking to El on the phone yesterday. And…”

“Are she and Will okay?”

She nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I just um…sometimes I…the way I feel around Lucas? Is how…is how I feel about…” She trails off, huffs, her face bright red. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

Steve reaches a hand out quickly and settles it over hers, tightening his grip. “It’s not,” he promises, keeping his voice low so the boys don’t hear. When she looks up at him, he offers a tiny smile. “It’s not.”

She presses her lips into a thin line and looks down at the board again. Steve busies his hands, ripping up more tape and piecing the board back together, making a note to get her a new one for Christmas. “It’s okay. To feel that way. Do you…do you want to break up? With Lucas?”

Max shakes her head immediately. “No. No, Lucas is great. A dipshit, but great.” She turns the board over so Steve can wrap the underside. “But um…she’s really pretty,” she whispers to the ground, and Steve can see her cheeks going pink again. “And nice, and fun to be around. And m-my dad and Billy always…”

She takes in a shaky breath and Steve jolts when he sees a tear streak down her face. He puts the tape down and edges closer on his knees, gripping Max’s hands tightly in his and rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “What they said? They’re wrong. You’re perfect, okay? Every bit of you. Don’t think otherwise,” Steve says, and her hands are trembling. “You’re badass, you’re awesome, and you happen to be bisexual.”

Why the FUCK were all of his friends also suddenly bisexual?

“It’s not weird to you?” Max confirms, searching his face hopefully.

Steve grins. “No way, you shit. Besides, I’m-”

“Are you two DONE YET?” Mike hollers from like four feet away before he promptly falls on his ass. “Because I think Dustin chipped a tooth, and my ass hurts.”

Steve shuts his eyes and takes a breath. Another time, then. He squeezes Max’s hands once and then drops them, twisting and standing. “Dustin, what the FUCK do you mean you chipped a tooth?”

“It’s not chipped! I just fell! And bit my tongue!!”

There’s blood on his lips and Steve presses both hands to his face. “Yup, all right, okay, we’re done for today. Get in the car, assholes, we’re going to the ER.”

“Aw, come on, Steve!” Dustin whines.

“You’re literally spitting blood, Henderson. No protests. You guys coming or going home?”

Lucas scoffs. “Obviously we’re coming with.”

“Yeah, I wanna see Dustin get all bloody.”

Steve rolls his eyes and herds the kids into his car, handing Dustin a wad of paper towels from his trunk and taking Max’s slightly crooked board from her. She shoots him a grateful smile, eyes no longer watering, and clambers into the car after Lucas.

Steve slams the trunk, pauses for a second to breathe, and then drives the dipshits to the fucking hospital.

Dustin gets three stitches in his lower lip.

~~

Dustin was uncharacteristically quiet.

Usually this wouldn’t bother Steve; sometimes it can be overwhelming having someone talking rapid fire nonstop all the time. But when Dustin’s quiet, it’s normally because he’s upset about something, and Steve will be damned if he lets his kids be sad.

He’s over helping prep for their group Thanksgiving dinner in a couple of hours, the night before actual Thanksgiving. They were all free, and even though Mike wouldn’t be there, since he was visiting El and Will, Steve is excited. He hasn’t had a real Thanksgiving dinner in almost eight years, and when he’d said as much to Dustin, the kid had insisted on coming early to help him out.

His mom had sent Dustin over with pumpkin pie, which is now chilling in the fridge, and Steve has just finished putting the carrots on to boil, wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it on the counter. The turkey has been in the oven since two. When he turns, Dustin is silently chopping potatoes and flinging them into a pot.

“You okay?”

Dustin jolts, fingers slipping a little. He drops the knife out of instinct and Steve is at the counter in a second, eyeing the teens fingers in worry. Nothing crazy, maybe a small nick, but he can see that Dustin is zoned out.

Steve gently takes the knife and sets it aside, bending to look at Dustin. “Dude?”

Dustin swallows and his fingers grip each other. “I’m okay,” he whispers. It’s obviously a lie, but Steve doesn’t want him to shut down completely, so instead he glances around the kitchen to see if there was something less…sharp Dustin could help with.

“You want to mash cranberries?”

“Me and Suzie broke up.”

Steve’s heart drops. “Aw, dude.”

Dustin’s chin is trembling now. “I m-mean, we’re still friends, you know? But she um…she called me? And she said that…well she doesn’t like me anymore. N-Not because she doesn’t like ME, but she…she um…”

Steve catches where he’s going faster than he might have a year ago. “She likes girls?”

Dustin stares at him, eyes wide. “Y-Yeah. How did you-?”

“You seemed nervous about it,” Steve says, offering a one shouldered shrug and knowing that it’s not really an actual answer. “No big deal. How do you feel about that?”

Dustin falls silent again, one foot kicking aimlessly against the rungs of the stool he’s sitting on. “I’m happy for her,” he says finally. He purses his lips and ducks his head. His curls fall around his face, hiding his expression. “I’m sad, you know? I liked her a lot. But she…it made me think, I guess? About all that. And I guess um…I guess…”

And his tone, his expression, the way his shoulders are hunched together – Steve knows. He doesn’t say it, though, refuses to take that from him. He just settles a careful hand on Dustin’s back and rubs soothingly. “Yeah?”

Dustin’s laugh is watery. “You’re really cute,” he chokes out.

Steve startles a little, because HE of all people wasn’t who he was expecting Dustin to be crushing on, but he lets it ride, circles his arm over his shoulders and tugs Dustin against his hip. “Oh yeah?”

Dustin seems to sag in relief at Steve not being revolted. “Yeah. I mean like…gross, ew, I don’t want to fucking date you, cause you’re an asshole, and you’re like…you’re the big brother I always wanted-” and _fuck _if that doesn’t make Steve’s heart warm “-but I know that…I mean…”

“I know.”

Dustin’s crying now, little tiny sobs that are rattling Steve to his core. “I’m sorry. If I made it weird. If I…if you want me to leave, I can, I won’t stay, but I-”

“Hey.”

Steve kneels, turns the stool so that Dustin is looking at him, teary eyes and all, and Steve softens, reaches up and cups his burning cheek. “It’s okay, dude,” he whispers. “I promise. It’s okay. I don’t hate you, and honestly it’s kinda flattering. There’s nothing wrong with you, okay? Hell, I had a crush on my babysitter when I was your age, too.”

Dustin snorts, a wet, disgusting sound. “Yeah, but you were crushing on a girl.”

Steve purses his lips. “Actually-”

A massive hissing sound from behind him makes Dustin jump and Steve whirl around, socked feet nearly slipping out from under him. The pot of carrots on the stove is boiling over, sending cascades of water onto the stove and over the edge to the floor. “Shit!” Steve yelps, scrambling to turn the heat down and move the cover aside.

When he’s calmed down just a little, he turns back to Dustin, who has returned to carefully chopping the potatoes and throwing them in the pot. He hesitates, looks back at the carrots, glances at the clock. They really don’t have the time, everyone will be there soon.

“Henderson?”

Dustin glances up, eyes red and cheeks pink. “Yeah?”

Steve points his spoon at him, lips curling into a smile. “Don’t you go sneaking me under any mistletoe this season.”

Dustin gags, very real, and Steve laughs, turning back to the stove and testing one of the carrots. He doesn’t mind, he decides. He wants to tell Dustin, of course, make him feel more comfortable in his own skin. But Steve also feels like he’ll just be trying to one up him if he does that, and that’s not what he wants.

That moment was Dustin’s. And Steve was more than happy to share it.

~~

“Is it weird to not want to have sex?”

Steve chokes on his bagel, wheezing back a couple sesame seeds and fumbling for his soda, dragging in a long gulp before he finally musters up the courage to look at Lucas, who is flushed and staring at the table like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

Steve is “babysitting,” aka “watching Lucas so his mom doesn’t have a heart attack because she never gets a break,” which meant that they were out for their usual, bagels and ice cream, waiting for Erica to get out of her dance lessons. Lucas had been unusually quiet all day, but Steve had just assumed that he and Max had another fight. Maybe he isn’t actually that far off.

“Pardon?”

Lucas’ fingers twist his napkin to pieces. “Is it…is it weird if-?”

“No, no,” Steve says, setting his bagel down and wiping his hands. “I heard you. Just…what brought it up?”

Lucas licks his lips and frowns. “Max and I had a…a fight? I guess?”

“About…sex? You guys are fifteen.”

The look Lucas shoots him is withering, and Steve holds his hands up. “Fine, point taken. I definitely was uh…active. Isn’t that something you should…”

He hesitates, because when had Steve EVER gone to his parents about sex? It was always his friends, and they hadn’t exactly been the best role models. If he could maybe be that for Lucas, he wanted to try. “Can you explain a little more?”

Lucas is clearly embarrassed, if the way his eyes refuse to meet Steve’s is any indication. “She wanted to…I don’t know, maybe go a little further? Not…not all the way, obviously. But I just…it’s not something I want to do.”

Steve shifts. “I mean, you are still pretty young, dude.”

Lucas crumples his napkins in his hands. “I don’t know if it’s something I ever want to do,” he whispers.

Steve thinks maybe he’s read about this before, during his extensive research. People who aren’t sexually driven, who don’t get pleasure from having sex. He can’t remember the word (something like asexual? Monosexual??), but he knows that these people exist. He doesn’t quite get it – obviously he REALLY likes sex – but it doesn’t mean he’s going to shame Lucas for feeling this way. “Does Max want to?”

“She does,” Lucas confirms slowly. “And I…I want to make her happy, I want her to feel good, b-but I…I _don’t _want to do it.”

He’s trembling now, and Steve winces. This isn’t going how he wants it to. He thinks, for a moment, about how his parents had talked to him about girls, back when they still gave a shit. “Did your parents…or any adult, I guess…did they ever tell you that when a girl says no, you should stop?”

Lucas bobs his head, and Steve drums his fingers on the table. “That goes for you, too. If you say stop, whoever you’re dating needs to stop, too. It’s not a one way thing.”

“It’s not?” and fuck, he sounds so relieved.

Steve shakes his head. “No, dude. It’s gotta be a mutual thing. If one of you isn’t having fun, then what’s the point, you know?”

Lucas nods and stares at the table for a while longer. “So you don’t think…you don’t think I’m messed up?”

Steve doesn’t know how to answer for this one. Obviously he loves Lucas dearly, that hasn’t changed. He doesn’t get the not wanting sex thing, but he’s not gonna make the kid feel like he’s bad or wrong for it. “No way. I don’t get it?” he tries, tilting his head when Lucas looks up, anxious. “But we’re different people. We feel different things. You might change your mind in the future, you might not. But maybe talk to Max about it? If she has trouble…I can talk to her, if you want.”

“I want her to be happy,” Lucas says quietly. “Is that…can I do that? Still? Even if I don’t…want that for me? Like…I like kissing her, and holding hands, but that’s…I don’t want her to do anything else with me. B-But I don’t think I’d be…against? Doing something for her.”

Steve sets his hand on the table next to Lucas’, not sure if he’d be comfortable with touching right now. “That’s up to you to decide. As long as you’re both comfortable with it, that’s all that matters. Remember, she has to stop if you say no. And same for you, mister.”

Lucas gives him a tiny smile, and on a whim, Steve asks, “Do you like guys, by the way?”

Lucas wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Boys are gross. It’s cool for other people I guess, just not me.”

Steve figures that’s as good as it’s gonna get, so he picks up his bagel and keeps eating. Erica gets out of dance in ten minutes, and he’ll be damned if he has to leave his lunch behind.

~~

When his phone rings at 12:24 in the morning, Steve is out of bed and looking for his shoes while he answers. No one would be calling this late unless there’s an emergency. “Hello?” he grumbles into the phone.

“Steve?”

He blinks twice, frowns, drops his shoe, and sinks onto his bed. “Yeah…El?”

“Yes.”

His brain is moving like molasses at this time of night. “It’s 12:30 am, are you okay?”

Her voice is confused. “It is…only 9:30?”

“Of course no one explained time differences,” he sighs, but that’s okay, because she sounds upset. “Are you okay? Is Will okay? How’d you even get this number?”

“We’re okay, and Dustin gave it to me. For emergencies.”

Steve cracks a smile at that and lays back down in bed, putting a hand over his eyes. “Okay. So is this an emergency? Do you need help?”

He hears her shift the phone on her end. “Not really…an emergency. But Will thought maybe…I could talk to you. He said you were…good. At talking.”

Will recommended him. Steve huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Is it about girls?” he asks, because of course. Of course, apparently queers run in packs.

A long pause, and Steve tries to remain quiet, let El speak first. “Can you read minds?” she asks, very bluntly, and Steve snorts.

“Nah, not like that. But I feel like I’ve had this conversation before. What’s up?”

“I think…” she falls quiet, obviously thinking, and Steve tucks his arm behind his head, staring at his ceiling. He used to have glow in the dark stars up there, when he was a kid, and there’s one still stuck in the corner. He focuses on it. “I don’t think I…like…Mike. Anymore.”

And yikes, that was gonna sting the kid. Steve frowns, narrowing his eyes at the star. “Like…you don’t like MIKE, or you don’t like boys?”

“Boys,” she says, so certainly that Steve is a little surprised. The other kids had all been so hesitant, so nervous, that to have one of them be so confident in who they liked was startling. Granted, El hadn’t had the most traditional upbringing, but Steve was a little envious of her confidence. “I don’t really like…boys. I like them, as friends. But not like Mike likes me.”

“Have you told Mike that?”

“No,” she says, and here her voice gets softer, less confident. “I don’t want him to be mad. At me. Or at you. I care about him. But not like that.”

“What changed?” Steve asks, crossing his ankles. “You guys seemed okay for a while.”

“We were,” El admits. “But Max…told me life isn’t all about boys. And I guess I was…I was…I don’t know the words. For what I was.”

“You felt pressured,” Steve suggests.

“Pressured?”

He shuts his eyes, thinks of all the times his father yelled at him, called him a fag, about how far that shoved his feelings down. “Yeah. You thought you had to like boys, so that’s what you did. You didn’t actually like them, you just felt pressured by other people to.”

“Pressured.”

She sounds confident again, like he’s opened a new door, and Steve is suddenly glad he gave her all those books. She clearly likes words. “You think I was pressured? To like Mike?”

“I…” Steve licks his lips. He doesn’t want to force his thoughts on her, so he chooses his words carefully. “I think…that Mike was the first person who let you have a choice outside the lab. And I think…I think you loved him for that. For freeing you.”

“I escaped by myself,” she protests.

“I know,” Steve says quickly. “I know, trust me. You’re badass, El.”

“Bitchin.”

He grins and chuckles, focusing on the star again. “Bitchin,” he agrees. “But he was the first person you could be normal around. So to speak. So you loved him like that. But not romantically. That’s okay. Sometimes it happens like that.”

He thinks about it, about the first guy he’d kissed, a drunken dare during a stupid sophomore year party. The first thought he’d had in years about boys, romantically, crushed by the laughter and jeers of peers who saw it as nothing more than a joke. The touch of that same guy several hours later, hands down the back of his pants, tongue on his neck.

They’d never spoken about it, after. Went back like nothing had happened. Steve had been so drunk that night that it was little more than a dream in his mind. He’d started thinking about it more, recently. He couldn’t remember the guy’s name.

“Steve?”

He shakes himself out of the daydream. “Yeah, El?”

“I said thank you. I…appreciate you talking to me. It’s okay?”

“It’s okay, El. Trust me. I know.”

She hesitates, and Steve realizes she’s processing his words. “You know?”

He blows air up at his bangs, dusting them off his forehead and cracking a smile. About fucking time. “Yeah, I know. I-”

“El! Bedtime, sweetie! Who are you talking to?” Mrs. Byers calls out from the other end.

“Steve.”

“St- El, it’s almost one am there. Let him go to sleep honey.”

“But it’s only ten here?”

Steve chuckles and sighs internally. “It’s okay, El. I’m going to sleep. Goodnight. And thanks for trusting me.”

“Goodnight Steve.”

He hangs up his phone and crashes back into bed, staring up at the single glowing star on his ceiling until he drifts into a dream about hot lips and stunning guys.

~~ 

Mike shows up on his doorstep a few days later, crying, and Steve ushers him inside from the freezing rain that somehow isn’t snow and leads him to the living room. He grabs a few blankets from the hall cupboard, because Mike is soaked through enough that Steve is certain the teen biked over instead of asking for a ride. He presses them into Mike’s hands, bolts upstairs, finds an old t-shirt and some sweats, and brings them back down again.

By the time he comes back from the kitchen, where he’s placed a quiet phone call to Nancy to tell her where her little brother is, Mike is huddled in one of the blankets, wet hair plastered to his forehead and damp clothes laid out by the heater.

Steve sets down a mug of hot chocolate in front of him and sits down on the couch next to Mike’s chair, taking a swig of his own drink. For a second, they listen to the ticking of the clock on the mantle, the pitter patter of rain outside.

“El told me she talked to you,” Mike whispers, and his voice is hoarse.

Steve hums and nods, not trusting himself to speak. Mike stares at the steaming cup of hot chocolate like he’s trying to blow it up with his mind. “She said you…told her it’s okay.”

“I did.”

Mike’s lip quivers. “But it’s not _fair,_” he hisses.

Steve tilts his head. His heart goes out to the kid, it does, but Mike’s also definitely not thinking logically right now. “What isn’t?”

“She dated me for a whole year, how come she can just…decide she doesn’t like boys anymore?” he asks. His nails are digging into his skin. Normally, Steve would stop that kind of action, but for now he leaves it, lets Mike work out his anger. “That’s not fair.”

“Is it fair to her?”

Mike blinks and looks over at him, confusion plastered on his bright red face. “What?”

Steve takes another sip of his chocolate, swirling it in the mug. “Is it fair for her to pretend to like boys, and be unhappy? Is it fair for you to have a girlfriend who doesn’t actually love you, just because you love her? Is it fair to El, to have to lie for your sake?”

Mike’s mouth opens, closes, opens again, and then he drops his head and buries it in his hands. “No,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “No, it’s not fair. But I…I liked her. A lot.”

“And it’s okay to be upset,” Steve assures him, setting his mug down and leaning forwards on his knees. “But you have to remember that she was in the relationship too. It’s not just about you.” He picks at a cuticle. “Took me a long time to figure that out.”

He can feel Mike watching him and refuses to look up. “Are you guys still going to be friends?”

“I…I want to be,” Mike whispers. “And so does she. But I…”

He trails off, expression thoughtful, and Steve studies him for a long moment. “You?” he prods.

“I’m mad at her,” Mike says, squeezing his hands together. And then, shutting his eyes, he shakes his head. “Not mad. I mean, I’m kind of mad, but I…that’s not all.”

“Okay?” Steve says, because fuck it if he isn’t a little confused.

Mike licks his lips and stares at the carpet. His hair is dripping onto the delicate blue swirls, but Steve can’t bring himself to care. His mom would just get it dry cleaned if it made a huge deal. “I think maybe I’m jealous.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “Does she have a new girlfriend?”

Mike shakes his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. I…I think I’m jealous that she’s…she’s so…” He spreads his hands, obviously at a loss for words, and Steve realizes where he’s going with it, and why isn’t he even the slightest bit surprised?

“Happy with herself?”

“Yeah.”

They fall quiet again, and Steve starts counting the drips coming from the window in the corner. When Mike speaks again, he’s up to 27. “My dad says…he says queers are the devil.”

Steve jolts, eyes flickering up to Mike’s face, watching him carefully. Mike continues, ears going red. “Calls them all kinds of things, and Mom sometimes gets mad at him for it, but she doesn’t…she doesn’t tell him he’s wrong. And I know Nancy doesn’t agree with them, cause she’s…she’s told me she doesn’t. She says it’s okay. But I-”

“Your parents are wrong,” Steve says emphatically. “Listen to Nancy. Listen to _me, _Wheeler. Whatever you’re about to tell me? It stays here, and it’s okay.”

Mike nods, and he’s started to cry. Steve isn’t as comfortable with Mike as he is the other kids, so he doesn’t touch, but he does scoot a little closer, lean forwards, so that the kid knows he’s listening. “I’m jealous,” he whimpers. “Because El…she’s okay. She knows…she knows who she likes, and Mrs. Byers is okay with her liking girls, and so she…they love her. B-But I c-can’t.”

“Can’t?”

Mike shakes his head, presses his hands to his face again. “Will and I used to pretend,” he whispers, so low Steve has to strain to hear him. “We used to pretend we were dating. All the time. Cause we thought it was fun, and s-silly, and _stupid. _And then Dad…and his dad…they weren’t happy.”

“Did they-?”

“No,” Mike breaks. He shakes his head. “No, my dad wouldn’t hit me. Mom would kill him. But we weren’t allowed to play together for…for months. Until Will’s dad left. But we s-stopped pretending after that. I d-don’t…I don’t know if it ever meant something to him? But it did to me.”

“Mike,” Steve starts, trying to be as gentle as he can. “Do you like Will?”

Mike nods, miserable. “I did,” he whispers. “And then after El came I…I stopped liking him, and I really liked El. I still love her. But I…I still like Will. A lot.”

He looks up at Steve finally, nose red and eyelashes soaked in tears. “You can’t tell,” he pleads. “My dad would kill me, Mom would…”

Steve pushes off the couch and sits on the arm of Mike’s chair, dragging the kid in for a hug, his slight discomfort with the younger Wheeler overwhelmed by his urge to make sure he’s okay. Mike’s arms twine around his waist, shaking. “I won’t. I won’t,” he promises, rubbing Mike’s shoulder. “You know you could tell Nancy though, right? Or the party? They’d support you Mike, I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” Mike whimpers into Steve’s sweater.

And it’s kind of hilarious, because he DOES know that, he knows it for fact that all these kids would support one another, but he’s promised all of them that he would keep their secrets secret, so he just hums and crushes Mike closer to him.

“You still coming to my Christmas party next week?” he asks quietly. “Nancy already said yes, so you don’t have a choice, just FYI.”

Mike scoffs against him, but Steve can feel the tiny laugh building in his fragile body. “I guess I don’t have a choice then.”

“Good, cause the present I got you is awesome.”

“You got me a present?” Mike asks, pulling back and looking genuinely surprised.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I got all you little shits presents, dumbass.”

“But-”

“No buts. Want me to call Nancy to come get you, or do you want a ride home?”

Mike swallows, looks out at the rain still pouring down the windows. “Can you call Nancy?” he asks quietly. “I think…I think maybe I’ll talk to her.”

Steve smiles and ruffles his hair, pushing off the chair and heading for the kitchen phone. “Good call, Wheeler.”

“So where IS my present?”

“Nice try, dipshit.”

~~

“Do gay people like…form packs?” Steve finds himself asking Robin as she helps him decorate the tree in the living room. The other kids are outside having a snowball fight with Nancy and Jonathon, and Steve had elected himself to stay inside and finish the tree. Robin had offered to stay and help, not a fan of the snowy weather.

The tree is real, covered in tiny rainbow lights, which Steve finds appropriate, all things given. The ornaments are a combination of the perfect, boring bulbs Steve’s parents had in the garage and the handmade ones the kids had brought over. Steve has been putting more of those up than the bulbs, in the hopes that maybe he can make it feel homier.

Robin stops hanging the red bulb in her hand, turning to look at him with a frown. “What?”

Steve shrugs, eyes the tree with a critical face. “Put that one on the left. Do gay people form packs? Like, do your friends end up all being gay?”

Robin scoffs as she hangs the bulb. “In highschool, maybe. A lot of us were gay, yeah. Or lesbian. I had one friend who went by female pronouns even though she was born a dude. Definitely not now, though.”

Steve lifts an eyebrow. For some reason, his heart is pounding in his chest. It’s Robin. It’s just Robin. He’s not even on drugs now. Everyone else has gotten their moment, why can’t he have his? “What makes you say that?”

Robin rolls her eyes, squinting at the tree for a moment before shifting a gingerbread man over a branch so it has more space. “I hang around with toddlers, Nancy Wheeler, and you now, Harrington,” she snorts, shooting him a grin.

Steve presses his lips into a line and turns back to the tree. His chest aches a little. “It’s not THAT absurd a thought, is it?”

Silence, and when he looks back, Robin is studying him like she can’t quite figure out what he’s saying. He quirks an eyebrow. Her lips part, a soft “Oh,” spilling out, and suddenly she’s breaking into a smile. “Steven Milton Harrington-”

“That is NOT my middle name.”

“-are you telling me you’re gay?”

His lips quirk. “Bisexual, actually.”

“What?”

The young adults turn to find all the kids, and Jonathon and Nancy, standing in the entryway. When they’d come in, Steve didn’t know, but it was Dustin who’d spoken. His eyes are glimmering, and his cheeks are rosy.

Steve hesitates, and despite the fact that literally everyone in the room has confided in him (well, except Nancy), he’s still a little nervous. He looks at Robin, who shrugs, still grinning, and Steve looks back at the kids. He offers a weak smile and spreads his hands, a green bulb dangling from his fingers.

“What, Henderson? Can’t a dude like dudes AND girls every now and then?”

For a brief second, there’s dead silence in the room, and Steve’s confidence wavers.

“I like boys,” Will suddenly pipes.

“Me too,” Dustin follows up, quick. “And also girls.”

“Ditto,” Max says, and her smile is genuine, her eyes lighting up.

Mike’s smile is a little more sheepish, and he and Jonathon chorus, “Me too,” at the same time, glancing at one another in surprise.

Robin is cracking up when she speaks. “Oh, I’m SUCH a lesbian,” she snorts.

El’s face changes from a polite smile to a grin. “Me too,” she says, soft.

Lucas looks conflicted, glancing at the other kids, who are now all side eyeing him, like they should know. “I…I like girls,” he finally says, his grip tightening on Max’s hand. “B-But I…I don’t like…all the gross adult stuff. Like sex and stuff. Does that count?”

“Asexual,” Robin says, gentle, and Steve grins, because he was totally right. “It counts.”

“Hold on,” Dustin says suddenly, looking at Steve. “You KNEW? When I told you? And you didn’t tell me back?”

“To be fair, the carrots were boiling over,” Steve points out. “Plus I didn’t want to steal your moment.”

“That’s what you were gonna tell me,” Max realizes, her eyes lighting up. “When I was talking to you.”

Jonathon’s eyebrows lift. “Hold on. Harrington, did they ALL tell you?”

The kids stare at him as he shrugs, nods. Robin punches him in the shoulder, and when he glances over, her smile is the warmest he’s ever seen it. “Nice, Harrington,” and it sounds like a genuine compliment.

“What? They all asked to keep it a secret, so I did! It’s not complicated,” Steve snorts.

“Are you telling me Nancy is the only straight one?” Robin teases, shooting Nancy a friendly grin.

The kids all start giggling, and Nancy crosses her arms like she’s annoyed. Steve sees the twitch of her lip and the twinkle in her eye before she speaks and he starts cracking up. “Wheeler, stop holding out on us.”

“I totally had a thing for Tammy Thompson in highschool.”

“Oh my GOD!” and yup, Steve is losing Robin and Nancy to gossip for the rest of the night.

The rest of the night passes in a flurry of discussing crushes, of hugs, of a little bit of crying, and of presents. Steve hands out Max’s new board, Lucas’ custom made slingshot complete with projectiles, El’s new editions of The Hardy Boys, Dustin’s new radio (that totally can’t pick up police band waves, what? No way), Will’s new record player, and Mike’s complete “Woods Survival Kit” (for the next time he decides to rescue stray humans from the forest). Nancy and Jonathon get a certificate for a nice restaurant a little ways out of town, because Steve couldn’t bring himself not to get them something.

The kids surprise him, too. He gets a million new records of artists he’s never even considered listening to, a new baseball bat, his own walkie talkie (which admittedly makes him tear up a little) and, very shyly, from Will and El, a braided rainbow wristband. It’s small, easily concealed, but Steve slips it on his wrist with pride.

“We made it after we talked,” Will says quietly. “It was just supposed to be a thank you? But I guess…I guess it applies to you too.”

Steve hugs them both and then ushers everyone into the dining room, grabbing Nancy, Robin, and Jonathon to help him pass out plates and food. As they’re sitting and eating, Robin suddenly goes wide eyed. “Oh my god. You asked if gays travel in packs.”

Silence around the table, and then the kids burst into wild giggles and Steve can’t help but snort a little. “Guess that answers my question.” 

Sometimes Steve is really, really happy he got thrown into this fucked up version of reality.

**Author's Note:**

> I did some research on the history of the lgbt+ community for this - dates of marches, when official terminology came into use, etc. It was hard to write Lucas' part bc I had to think in terms of that time period and how Steve might look at it (confused and not quite understanding, but supportive of his children) instead of how I look at it. 
> 
> Also Erica is a lesbian. No arguments.


End file.
